The Sharpened Edge Of Happieness
by BlendableLion
Summary: Nex has been tormented her entire life. No one has stood up for her, she's been cast aside, beaten up without a care. Until she meets, and befriends a kind and caring boy named Phil. With Phil, will she beat down her struggles or fall victim to the death she's always wanted? STRONG TRIGGER WARNING, READ AT YO OWN RISK
1. Prologue

_A Cutter's Lullabye  
_

_Go to sleep and close your eyes_

_And dream of broken butterflies_

_That tore their wings against a thorn_

_You know the pain that they've endured_

_Silver metal shine so bright_

_Scarlet blood that feels so right_

_Dream of that blood trickling down_

_And wake up just before you drown_

_The moonlight shining off your tears_

_As you bleed out your worst fears_

_So tonight when you start to cry_

_Whisper the cutters lullaby:_

_Hushabye baby, your almost dead_

_You don't have a pulse and your pillows red_

_Your family hates you, yout friends let you bleed_

_Sleep tight with a knife, cause thats all you need_

_Rockabye baby, broken and scarred_

_You didn't know life would be this hard_

_Time to end the pain you hid so well_

_And down you go baby_

_Straight back to hell_


	2. Shiny Silver Weapons

The house is dark and quiet. The full moon outside casts a ghostly glow in my small bedroom, illuminating everything in my bed room, keeping me from sleep.

It's not like I was going to anyways.

I crouch down to the floor and randomly grab at the boxes underneath my bed, pulling out everything until I find what I'm looking for. After what seems like forever I finally find what I'm looking for. A little box, filled to the brim with razors.

Perfect.

Every horrible thing that's happened to me today floods to my head, then distributing to every inch of my body. I prick the tip of my finger tip with a shiny blade, almost smiling at the sweet relief it offers.

A beautiful escape.

With a simple flick of my hand, my wrist bursts open, tiny bubbles of blood eating away at the emotional pain.

Lovely.

Less then half a minute later my entire forearm is coated in liquid roses, dripping down my arms, numbing at the pain, gently nipping away at it until hardly anything remains.

I pull up the bottom of my shirt and continue cutting at the skin that surrounds my hips. My stomach starts to bleed. Oh crap, it's on the carpet, better clean this mess up.

Seconds later, all evidence of blood on both the carpet and myself are washed away, but the memories remain. Layers upon layers of uneven, burning skin.

It's not like anyone ever cared.

The countless bullies at my school, pushing me down stairways, stuffing me into lockers, telling me to die, to just get off of this planet.

I wish I could.

With the tender care of a mother holding her first born child I set my razors into the simple hiding place, and conceal them under the hiding spot under my bed.

Feeling like a great load had been lifted off of my shoulders I nuzzled under the covers on my small bed and drifted of into a dreamless sleep.


	3. The Boy Who Asked Too Many Questions

"What an ugly bitch."

"She's such a freak."

"Why won't she just die already?"

You're right. Why won't I?

They sky is gray and the rain is falling, and falling hard. The bus is hot and hard to breathe in, so I chose a seat that's under a window.

Bad move.

A group of ten, maybe fifteen kids sit right behind me and I'm trapped. Hands grab at my cherry-red hair and give it sharp tugs, each one more painful then the last. A chorus of cruel laughter jumps around the bus and I bite my lip to keep from screaming.

I taste blood.

A boy is flicking mud from his shoes at me and the girl sitting next to him gives my arm a sharp pinch. Someone sitting me hind me keeps kicking the very back of my seat, and then my head his pushed into the one in front of me.

What have I done to deserve this?

"Why don't you leave her alone?"

Every head in the back of this yellow hell, including mine, whips around to stare at the british voice's origin. I tall, skinny boy with black hair and huge blue eyes looks back, terrified at the many faces glaring back at him.

Why would you say that?

"Disgusting homo."

Everyone laughs and the pale boy stares at the floor. "How?" He says in a voice a little louder than before.

"What?" A tall boy with huge muscles asks him.

"How does me telling you to leave her alone make me gay?"

Oh, no.

His question is answered with a sharp smack on his left cheek. He closes his mouth and stares at his sneakers.

Stupid boy, don't ask questions here.

Everyone turns back their attention to me, this time seeing who will cut of a chunk of my red hair first. Just as the scissors are about to slice through my hair, the boy from before grabs my hand and pulls me to the front of the bus. Useless and about as protesting as a rag doll I obey and sit down in the seat next to him, staring blankly out of the window.

"That was stupid."

He looks at me with his frosty eyes with such intensity I swear he's reading my thoughts. "How was helping you stupid?"

It'll turn you into me.

"You ask too many questions," I say, not returning his stare "Don't ask too many questions."

Questions get you tormented.

He doesn't say anything, he just continues studying my face. A voice from the back of the bus says "He only likes her 'cause he thinks she's a dude! Butt-ugly scum!" and an echo of applause and laughter quickly follows. Soon the entire bus is chanting "Gay boy and ugly rat!" over and over again.

I'm sorry, stupid boy. I never meant for this to happen.

I bite my lip again and I feel tears threaten to spill from my lashes. I turn away from the boy and blink a few times, terrified if I wipe away the evidence with my sleeve, that it will fall and my cuts will be exposed.

"Are you okay?"

No.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say "Just something in my eye."

The bus pulls in at Kelly High School, and crowds of teenagers waiting impatiently greet me with unwelcome eyes. I get up and make my way down the few steps that lead off of the bus, when I'm pushed with great force onto the sidewalk. I feel my skin being ripped open with the impact, blood filling my mouth and covering my face.

Now I'm like my hair. Bloody all over.

Someone helps me up and is brushing the dirt from my clothes. Oh great, it's question-boy. He's really gotten himself up shit creek, now he'll never have any friends.

"I'm Phil, by the way."

"Oh."

"And you?"

"_Ugly rat."_ Someone says, pushing me into Phil. He wraps his arms around me and I'm engulfed in his scent. "It's Nex."

"Nex," He says repeating it curiously "Does it have any meaning?"

Yes. To die a violent death.

"No."

"Well, Nex," He says giving me a tight hug and pulling me away from the crowd of watching people "Do you want to hang out sometime today?"

"Oh! Um, I don't really know..." I feel numb, my heart beating too fast. "Are you... are you asking me to be your friend?"

"Well, yeah."

"Okay."

Suddenly my heart feels like it's about to explode. I feel really warm and fuzzy inside. Wow. I have a friend.

This is the best day ever.


	4. The Higher You Go, The Harder You Fall

"I really don't want to go to school today," Phil says, looking up at the slowly clearing rain clouds "I know that I should, seeing as I just started less than a week ago, but I guess I just really don't want to."

"Okay," I say, pulling him towards the bushes that surround the school, a failed attempt of a fence "We won't."

We duck underneath the wet leaves and crawl on our hands and knees to freedom, away from the school and all of the people in it. "So," He says, brushing a bit of mud from his knees "Where do you wan to go first?"

"Anywhere," I tell him, a smile almost coming to my face "Today, Phil the world is ours. No on can stop us, we can go anywhere, do anything we please."

His face breaks into a huge grin and I feel a ridiculous impulse to return it. When I don't Phil looks away, as if he understands, then takes my hand and we walk down the long road together.

Does he?

The sun starts to peek out from behind a cloud and the heavy rain turns into an occasional drip here, a drop there.

Is karma trying to tell me something?

I look down at our feet. We're walking perfectly in sync, my black converse, his blue. I'm like Phil's darker alter-ego. His hair short and black, mine short, bright red and spiked. He's wearing a red plaid shirt under is grey jacket and a pair of dark skinnies. Under my black hoodie-jacket, I'm wearing a long sleeved purple top, and a pair of jeans that are ripped, bleached and shredded in random areas.

We walk the 15 minute walk to the town with light conversation. I learn that his parents recently moved here for money issues and he left a bunch of friends behind him in the UK. He tells me funny stories about each of them and laughs like he was reliving the moments all over again.

He asks me about my family.

I don't answer him.

"Okay, I see, you don't have to tell me, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He says in a caring voice.

Thank you.

We walk into town, the lights from the shops looking bright in the misty air. The scents from the passing shops are overwhelming and I can almost taste the coffee on my tongue Turns out, Phil wanted coffee as much as I did, so he drags me into the nearest Starbucks and sits me down at a high seated table.

"What do you want?"

"I don't have any money."

"I'll pay."

"I'm not letting you pay for me."

He sighs and goes to place his order. I sit awkwardly as he talks to the pretty cashier who has natural blonde hair and no scars or tattoos.

Am I jealous?

He returns a few minutes later with two peppermint lattes in his hands. he sets one down in front of me and says "There. You got a coffee, new achievement unlocked!"

"Thanks."

"Can I get a smile?"

I look up at him, my brain saying "S_mile, just do it. it's easy." _my face saying "_It's too hard. I can't do it."_ I shake my head and head out of the coffee shop, him closely following behind me.

Oh great, now I'm going to cry in front of someone I haven't even known for a day.

"Nex, I'm sorry," he says trying to look at my face "I didn't think-"

"No, it's fine. Just don't think about it, please."

"Nex-"

"_Phil, please, just drop it."_

He doesn't say anything else, just looks at the ground. I feel something stir inside of me. it feels like pity.

What should I do? I'm not good with people.

I think his bottom lip is quivering a tiny but he looks away before I think about it. Instead he stands there, his blue eyes, the color of the ocean, staring at the wet, black road. Awkwardly i wrap my long and skinny arms and I pull him into me. "Um," I say, trying to think of something comforting to say to a grown teenager without making him feel weird "There, there?"

He laughs and plants a quick peck on my cheek. I put my hand where he kissed me, the warmth from such a quick microsecond still lingering. I feel like I'm climbing up the stairs of love, the higher I go the better i feel. I wan to be with Phil. I really like Phil- wait, no. I am not in love. I'm on person, I will always be that one, lone person. The outcast, girl with fake hair, tattoos dancing on her limbs. The girl who always gets beat up, the girl who no one will ever love.

He takes my wrist and continues walking down the street. I wince and wriggle free from his grasp.

He makes no note of it.


	5. Sleeves

When it's finally time for Phil and i to go home the sky is perfectly clear. The sun is out and shining, the air no longer damp from rain.

Phil continues chattering on about everything and I make no attempt to stop him or even respond.

It's nice knowing someone wants to talk to you.

Phil and I walk back to his house and he asks me if I wan to come inside for a little bit. I nod and he leads me into his small house, big enough for three, maybe four people at most. He takes out a silver key and unlocks his door. I catch glimpses of random rooms and photographs as he guides me toward his room.

His room is filled with random boxes, some tightly sealed, others with their contents spilling out; books, photographs, movies, everything. Phil takes off his jacket and hold his hand out for mine, a classic gentleman.

Thank god for long sleeves.

He continues talking and laughing and I sit and listen, mesmerized by the instant calming effect that his voice has on me. the room is warm and being wrapped in Phil's words makes me feel drowsy I pull out my phone and check the time.

I've been here 4 hours longer then I had meant to be.

I don't want to go home, but I know I can't stay here. Phil must know what i'm thinking because he gets up and grabs a bunch of blankets and a pillow and pats the spot next to him on the bed.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want to stay here, unless..." he drifts off in mid sentence.

"No, I can sleep on the floor. It's enough you're letting me stay here at all."

"No, really have the bed."

"Why don't we compromise?"

"Phil..."

"Fine, if it makes you happy, I'll sleep on the stupid bed," Phil says "You just met me, I just don't know how to act around-" He stops himself and looks down at the ground. "here, I'll get you a pair of pajamas."

I shuffle my feet as he rummages through his drawers for a pair of black sweatpants and a white shirt with the Muse logo in the center.

With short sleeves.

He shows me the way to the bathroom, a small room in which everything is blue, and as he turns his head I grab my hoodie from the chair he set it on in his room. I change into the clothes slowly, feeling my scars sting with every simple moment out in the air.

As I gaze upon each red slash, I feel a pang of hurt in my heart as I think about how Phil would react to them if he ever found out. he would treat my like the rest of them, finding every chance that he could to trip me or call me a name, just adding another cut to the long list.

Pathetic girl, why do you do this?


	6. Dreams of Schizophrenia

Phil chatters on and on, the early hours of morning peeking through the windows, the sky the same shade of pink of a child's flesh in the snow. I listen and hang onto every word my new friend says, picturing the situations in my head as he rambles on and on, not expecting me to answer. He knows that I don't want to talk and he accepts that.

He is perfection.

Sometimes I respond, always less then five words, a quick response, a question answered. Sometimes I'll let my mind wander as he speaks, he doesn't seem to mind when I'm not looking at him, just staring off into the distance.

Eventually he dozes off and leaves me alone with the shrieking that is inside of my head, pleas of death rattling around. I try to sleep, but the invisible mess shrieking and thrashing around my heads stops me from doing so.

The mess is me, I am the mess.

She has stringy and dirty hair, old blood on her body, her clothes are tattered and she is emaciated, her bones poking and ripping through her flesh, blood flowing freely with every moment She runs around my mind and rips happiness to shreds and begs me to kill her. She cries and tears away at her skin attempting to end her life, but if I am here, she is here as well.

The only thing that seems to calm her is the hypnotic sound of Phil's voice, she stops shrieking. She lies down and is coaxed into life as he speaks, she holds on a little bit tighter with every sound he makes.

He is my drug, calming, life changing and addictive.

I crawl over to the sleeping boy across from me and move a lock of his fair away from his face. He wrinkles his nose and gives out a little yawn, like a lion. I want to snuggle in his arms be wrapped in pure bliss, but he probably doesn't love me, just a freakish girl with no friends of her own, a sad and lonely mess.

I flop back onto the floor and let out a long sigh as the yelling starts again, images of blades and poison flickering across my mind as i fall out into a horrific sleep.

The nightmares begin.

Huge creatures with no eyes tear me limb from limb, I beg for them to stop and it only continues. Dark figures knock me over and I'm falling, my red hair getting in my face as it turns to blood, filling my mouth and my thoughts. I hit the ground with a hard thud, my body aching as I get back up again to face the new round of horrors that await. I squeeze my eyes shut and tears roll down my face, the saltiness mixing with the taste of blood. I slump down and look up into the eyes of the next nightmare it's a group of the kids at school, huge and wicked grins sewn into their faces, needles stuck into fingertips They grab me, the sharp pains of the sharped ends digging into my skin. I scream and cry and try to claw my way free. I get thrown into a room of broken mirrors, the reflections dirty from neglect.

I place my hand on the mirror and gaze at the girl on the other side. She's the girl from my mind, the broken girl based off of me who runs about my mind who begs for death. My ribs are sticking out at painful angles and the skin rips, easier than sticking a knife into butter. The mirror image of myself laughs, a grotesque sound that rips into my mind and works its way into my thoughts. I throw my fist into the mirror and hundreds of millions pieces of glass fall around me, everything is a sparking mess. Strong hands wrap around he and we are floating in the night sky, looking up at the glass-shard stars.

"Are you alright?"

I wake up with frightened eyes and cold sweat on my body. Phil is less than three inches from my face, his ocean eyes frightened.

Of course not, but you can't know that.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He pulls me into his arms and gives me a tight squeeze. I wrap my arms around him as well and put my head on his shoulder. My sleeve falls down a bit and a scar greets me, beckoning me, tempting me. I close my eyes and push unto his embrace, losing myself and my thoughts in his arms.


	7. Crumpled Note

I wake up wrapped in Phil's arms. He's breathing in my ear, deeply and slowly, lost in his world of dreams. I stretch my limbs out as best as I can without waking him, the movement causes a cut on my thigh to burst, the blood slowly blossoming to the surface of my skin, staining the black fabric of the borrowed sweatpants.

Ugh.

Phil lets out a little moan and shifts his position away from me, the cold air filling the gap between us making me shiver. His arms are still around me, but only not as tight, loosely, any more movements would make them fall.

I want to snuggle into his chest and hear his heartbeat, his warm breaths in my ear, slowly falling asleep to the calming sounds, but if he woke up he'd probably be grossed out, repulsed that the freakish cutter girl got so close to him.

Why am I made this way?

I slowly roll out of Phil's arms and grab my clothes, and make my way to the bathroom. I peel off the sweatpants and band tee and tug on my shirt and jeans, finally putting my jacket back on. I wash my face and inspect it in the mirror, repulsed by the ugly girl with tired eyes and piercings on her lips who looks back at me with hatred burning in her eyes.

The voice in my head whispers to me and I close my eyes and listen to whatever she has to say. She murmurs about death and digs through my mind to find images of pills, knives and heights, tempting me to choose one.

"Stop."

She laughs and runs a piece of dirty glass across her arm again and again, the red pouring out of her arm in gallons. She laughs harder and harder and I feel like I'm drowning in blood. I open my eyes and find that I've fallen on the bathroom floor,my palms sweating and my breaths short and panicked.

Noiselessly I leave Phil's house, quickly scribbling a note before I do, thanking him for letting me stay over and stuff. I take a deep breath of the cold air outside, my head almost instantly cleared of the warm fuzzy feelings from inside.

I wish they didn't leave.

With nowhere to go, I walk aimlessly down the street, my hands in my pockets. The wind blows my hair into my eyes and I try to remove it from my face without removing my hands from the warmth. As I do I notice that I'm next to a small park, I must've walked further than I thought.

There's a couple I don't recognize sitting on a bench, hand in hand, gazing upon a small child in a pair of pink overalls. They give me disapproving stares as I walk past them, no doubt thinking I'm off to burn down a village or something. I sit down at a nearby picnic table, the wood damp and falling apart, just to be alone with my thoughts. I put my head in my hands and try to ignore the setting around me, the small breaths of wind turning my cheeks pink and numb.

Tap, tap.

I look up to see the couple from before next to me. "Yes?" I say looking them directly in the eyes.

"Can you please move, you're scaring my daughter."

I raise my eyebrows to see that the couple is being completely serious. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I think you should go."

"Fuck off."

The man tugged on his wife's arm and she scooped up the toddler. They stormed away and I felt something that felt like a laugh stir inside of me.

Then the taunting starts.

_It's because of your face isn't it? You're ugly as fuck, they think you're disgusting So does Phil, he probably pities you, a sad and lonely girl who takes comfort in pain. You don't have any friends and everyone hates you. No one loves you. Kill yourself, everything will be over. No one gets noticed until they're dead._

Tempting...

She takes a knife and digs it into her flesh, blood and chunks of skin oozing their way out of her arms. I shudder and wish that it was actually happening to my own skin, to loose myself in the pain and feel the life leave me.

I suddenly stand up and almost fall over from moving so quickly. I feel like I'm about to puke, my feet slamming against the ground.

"Watch where you're going, freak."

I spin around to see a boy from my school, I believe his name is Grant, and a girl I don't know the name of. I know that she knows, and despises, me. "Ugh, you're a clumsy little fuck, aren't you?"

I look down at the ground and try to continue walking down the street to my final destination, but I'm greeted by high heeled shoes. I look up at Grant's girlfriend and she slaps me sharply across my face, spins around on her heel and marches away with Grant. He flips me off, then puts his arm around the girl and they continue marching down the street.

I hate myself.

Small flecks of rain begin to fall and I wrap my arms tightly around myself, then realize it's useless, I may as well not even care anymore. I take off my jacket and wrap it around my waist, then continue running down the street, tears flowing freely. My cuts feel soothed in the stormy air, the burning flesh now covered in rain.

I look up at the building that I wanted so desperately to reach and feel unburdened all of my troubles gone by the presence of a structure.

A car park.

The garage is never busy, only about ten, maybe twenty cars on the first floor, the numbers diminishing as I climb the stairs, higher and higher, until I'm at the very top, looking out at the city.

The voice inside my head is going off the hook, screaming and whooping, congratulating me on what I'm about to do, tears of joy running down her broken and mangled face. I let out a sob and the tears are dripping down my face, not of sadness, but of joy. Doing something I've always wanted to do.

Die.

I fumble in my back pocket for a stump of eyeliner and a receipt for a set of knives. My hands shaking I write down the last thing I will ever write and hoist myself up to the ledge outside, my note crumpled in my hands. I turn my back to the outside and hold the scrap of paper to my heart and whisper what it says:

"Goodbye, Phil."

I lean back.

I'm falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Dead.


	8. Epilogue

_Once upon a time_

_A girl wanted to die_

_She was trapped_

_With the voices inside of her head_

_She was covered in scars_

_and hated herself_

_She was unloved_

_and no one cared_

_about her_

_Once upon a time_

_a sad little girl_

_met a boy_

_who took away the pain_

_He could almost make her laugh_

_he wrapped her in his arms_

_He loved her_

_She loved him_

_Skinny lovers_

_The girl took her life_

_the boy is all alone_

_All he has is a note;_

_A final goodbye_

_Her voices are gone_

_so is her soul_

_she is gone forever_

_never to return_

_Now the boy has voices_

_and cuts on his arms_

_He wished a wish_

_a plea of sleep_

_to sleep forever_

_and maybe be reunited with the girl_

_so he climbed the tallest tower _

_and_

_the boy_

_he_

_jumped._


End file.
